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The last thing he sees before he wakes up is his brother’s face above him.
“Kaeya–!”
“Master Diluc.”
He wakes with a gasp, scrambling backwards so fast he hits the headboard. The blankets around him feel oppressive so he kicks them off without thinking. He clutches at his chest, heaving with panicked breaths, his heart hammering so hard he can barely hear any space between the heartbeats.
His eyes dart to the side to see–
“Adelinde,” he breathes, tethering himself to the emerald green of her eyes, filled with muted concern as she approaches slowly.
She’s still in her nightgown, which makes Diluc realise that the sun hasn’t even risen yet. Once she’s within reach, his arm shoots out to grab hers and hold on tight. On another day she might admonish him for the lack of care, but she remains mercifully silent.
“Another nightmare,” she says, eyes softening, carefully uncurling his fingers from around her wrist as she sits down next to him. Her hand is light as it smooths his hair, brushing the messy locks out of his face and tucking them delicately behind his ear. He tries not to lean into the touch too much. “You’ve been having them more often lately.”
“Did I wake you?” he asks, voice laced with guilt. Adelinde works hard enough already, she shouldn’t be needlessly disturbed by him having stupid dreams. “I’m sorry–”
“I was already awake, Master Diluc. There is no need to apologise.”
Somehow he feels like Adelinde is lying. But she would be furious if he so much as suggested such a thing.
“Would you like to talk about it?”
He shakes his head. Adelinde says nothing, but her mouth turns downwards into a disappointed frown. Not an unusual expression for her these days, but really, what did she expect? He’s given her the same answer every time. With an almost imperceptible sigh, she takes the blankets and begins to rearrange them, but Diluc stays her hand.
“You really should try to get some more rest if you can. There are still hours to go before sunrise. You don’t expect to avoid nightmares by depriving yourself of sleep, do you?”
“How am I supposed to sleep when I have dreams like that,” he mumbles bitterly. He doesn’t intend for Adelinde to hear it, but of course she does, and her frown deepens. “I’ll be fine, Adelinde, really. I’m not even tired.”
“It’ll catch up to you later. You know how this goes.”
“I’ll sleep earlier tonight, I promise,” he says, silently pleading for Adelinde to just drop this already, because the thought of going back to sleep after what he just saw makes him ill.
She stares him down for a few seconds before relenting with a sigh, releasing the blankets as she stands up. “I hope you’ll at least consider breakfast, then.” That roughly translates to I am not letting you out of my sight until you’ve had a full meal.
“Of course,” he says, swinging his legs over the side of the bed as he gets up. He smiles up at her genuinely. “I can’t say no to your cooking.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Master Diluc.” Her voice is stern and serious, but he can see her holding back a smile. “Perhaps now is as good a time as any for another cooking lesson. I seem to recall your crepes could use a little work.”
He chuckles. “Addie, if you want me to cook for you, you can just ask. I wouldn’t say no to you.”
“Nonsense. It would be highly improper for a maid to ask their master to cook for them, though I suppose this family has always been somewhat lacking in propriety. I have your father to thank for that,” she says, walking ahead of him, and even though she sounds exasperated, this time Diluc knows she’s smiling. “You have no idea how many times he thought of picking fights with other nobles over old traditions.”
Adelinde has always been more than just a maid for as long as she’s worked here, propriety be damned. No ordinary maid would’ve held this broken household together as long as she had.
“He was known to have a few good ideas from time to time,” Diluc says lightly as he follows her down the stairs. It’s rare for the mention of his father to evoke pleasant, nostalgic memories, instead of making his heart ache with regret. Adelinde is rather good at the former.
“You really are your father’s son,” she says, amused. The only light in the dark house is the little flame at Diluc’s fingertips lighting their way, but he still manages to catch a soft smile when he glances at her. “Master Kaeya as well. If I had known you two would go on to ignore all of my teachings, I might have dedicated that time to more useful things.”
“Such as?”
“Cooking crepes, perhaps. Goodness knows getting either of you to stop and eat a real breakfast was a challenge at the best of times. Now,” she says, pushing him towards the stove, “show me what you remember. You’re not leaving until you’ve perfected this once and for all.”
“Want a crepe?”
Charles eyes him warily. “Master Diluc, that’s the fourth time you’ve offered me crepes today. Where did you even get so many from?”
“Don’t ask.” He takes another bite of his own, swallowing the memories of Adelinde’s scrutinising glare as he poured out more batter into the pan.
What did it matter if they came out a little uneven? Who cares if he’d turned up the heat a fraction too high and they’d ended up a shade too brown? It all tastes the same when it’s eaten anyway.
The point of this is to exercise delicacy and care, Master Diluc, two qualities in which you are sorely lacking.
Hmph. Adelinde wouldn’t be satisfied by anyone’s cooking except her own. No one else is as much of a perfectionist as she is. Especially not over crepes.
“I’m good, Master Diluc,” Charles says. “We’ve just got the beer left for the inventory, so–”
“I’ll take care of it. You can have the rest of the day off until your shift.”
Charles blinks at him. “You sure? It really won’t take that long–”
“It’s fine.” Diluc reaches for another crepe. “I know I haven’t been taking as many shifts recently. You could use a break.”
“It’s not like you’re obligated to, sir–”
“Charles. Go rest. I’ll see you in the evening. Have a good day.”
“Yes, sir,” Charles says, bewildered. He leaves the tavern with a silent nod of thanks, and then Diluc is alone again.
Inventory day is always a dull affair, but there’s something about the mundanity and simplicity of it that quiets his restless mind, at least for a few hours. Routine enough that he can breeze through it with little effort, but just involved enough that he can’t stop to think about anything else. At the very least, it keeps his hands busy.
He treats himself to a glass of grape juice on the balcony when he’s done. The winter wind blowing in doesn’t exactly make it comfortable, but it’s a nice distraction. Mondstadt is lively as ever, but up here things seem a little quieter. A little less taxing.
Of course the peace can’t last. There’s a clattering noise from somewhere above him followed by a high pitched squeak, and he puts his glass down with a sigh. Every time he thinks he can catch a break, the world laughs in his face for it.
He nimbly hops up on the balcony railing, which gives him just enough height to peer over the lower edge of the roof. Once he sees the source of the noise, he’s not sure why he expected anything else.
“Klee?”
The little knight turns her head to look at him, her smile even brighter than he remembered. She waves at him with one hand, the other holding on to the roof, keeping her in place rather precariously.
“Diluc! What are you doing here?”
“This is my tavern. I’m the one who should be asking you that,” he says, keeping the panic out of his voice as he watches her tenuous grip on the roof. “It’s dangerous up there. You shouldn’t go climbing without adult supervision.”
“Aren’t you an adult?”
“I’m not supervising you.”
“Do you want to?”
“Klee, get down from there. It’s not safe.”
“But–”
“Klee. Down. Now.”
“You can’t tell me what to do!”
“I have crepes downstairs for you if you get off the roof.”
That seems to inspire some urgency in her. Bribery always works on children. He only feels a little bit bad for whoever will have to deal with the sugar rush later.
Klee shuffles slowly towards Diluc and off the roof. He stretches out his arms, catching her and setting her down slowly. It feels like the day he’d first found August, rescuing her from this same rooftop all those months ago, back before he knew just how she would turn his life upside-down.
“What were you doing up there?” Diluc asks, kneeling down to meet the little knight at eye level.
Klee perks up at the question. “Did you know that Philanemo mushrooms are useful for making bombs? I’m going to collect as many as I can today and make a super-duper special one!”
Of course it comes back to bombs. How Mondstadt hasn’t been razed to the ground already is beyond his understanding.
“What do you need a ‘super-duper special one’ for?”
Klee points at a mushroom sticking to the wall, just below the eave of the roof above them.
“I’ll tell you if you help me reach that one!”
It’s probably safer than letting the kid climb up there herself. He resigns himself to his fate.
“Fine. Hold on tight, okay?”
He picks her up easily, given how tiny she is, and settles her on his shoulders. She kicks her legs enthusiastically and he has to hold on tighter to stop her from falling off.
She giggles. “Kaeya was right! You are easy to manipulate.”
He purses his lips. What in the world is his brother teaching this kid?
“Do you even know what that means, Klee?”
“It means I can make you do whatever I want!” She giggles again with a hint of mischief this time, hands tightening in his hair as he moves them closer to the wall so she can reach the mushroom. “Kaeya says Diluc has a weakness for cute things.” That’s a lie. “And Klee is the cutest! Everyone says so.” He feels her try to bend down to look him in the eye, though she’s too small to really manage anything more than burying her face in his hair. “Does Diluc think Klee is cute?”
“Most children are cute,” he deadpans, more focused on not letting her fall off. He was responsible for this kid now. “Go on, get your mushroom. You can reach it.”
“Kaeya says Klee isn’t like most children,” she says, grabbing at the mushroom with her tiny hands. She lets out a cheerful yell when she manages it.
“Hmph. That might be the first thing he’s said to you that’s actually true.”
Klee snickers. “Diluc, you’re funny sometimes.”
“I’m flattered.” Diluc goes to pick her up and place her on solid ground again, but she wriggles away from him and starts squealing. “What’s the matter? You got your mushroom.”
“Klee likes it up here! Diluc is so tall. And you don’t complain like Kaeya does.”
“Kaeya complains about everything. Don’t mind him,” he says, smirking. If Kaeya gets to talk shit about him, there’s no way he’d pass on returning the favour. “You still didn’t tell me what this special bomb was for. I hope it’s not something that’s going to get you in trouble.”
Klee offers him her pinky. “You have to promise to keep it a secret, okay? It’s very, very, very important to Klee!”
“Pinky promise,” he says sincerely, hooking his finger around hers. It’s a marvel just how small her hands are compared to his.
She leans down to whisper in his ear. “It’s for Kaeya’s birthday!”
Well. He hadn’t expected that. But looking at the date… it makes sense.
“What do bombs have to do with Kaeya’s birthday?”
“All of the Knights helped Klee plan a big treasure hunt for Kaeya! And at the end when he finds the treasure, we’ll take the bombs and go fish-blasting! Only Klee knows that Kaeya loves fish-blasting. It’s our secret. I got special permission from Master Jean and everything,” she says, and Diluc can hear the sheer pride in her voice.
It’s not the fish-blasting he loves, Klee, it’s spending time with you.
“A treasure hunt? Sounds fun.”
“Kaeya always gives Klee treasure maps and Klee always finds cool stuff from them! Did you know Kaeya’s grandpa was a pirate? That’s why Kaeya really loves treasure!” Klee gasps. “Wait! If Kaeya’s grandpa was a pirate, and you’re his brother, doesn’t that make your grandpa a pirate too?”
He snorts. He vividly remembers Kaeya spinning this same grand tale for him when he was a child, back when he was too naive to imagine that his new little brother would ever tell a lie. Every night, Kaeya would add another heroic feat to the legacy of his ‘grandfather’, acting it out with all his heart as Diluc huddled with him under the blanket well past their bedtime, keeping a tiny flame alive to illuminate Kaeya’s face as he wove his stories. In the mornings Diluc would chase Kaeya as he rushed out of the house, insisting that they had to find his grandfather’s treasure before it was too late.
It seems like some things haven’t changed as much as he’d thought.
“Of course,” Diluc says, smiling fondly at the memories. Klee will find out the truth one day, but for now there’s no need to withhold the childhood joy that he’d experienced long ago upon hearing the same tale. “He told us all kinds of stories about his pirate adventures when we were little.”
“Woah, that’s so cool! But wait, that doesn’t make sense – how come you don’t have an eyepatch then? Kaeya said eyepatches are hered- heredit–”
“Hereditary.”
“Hereditary! So where’s yours?”
Does she even know what hereditary means?
“Our grandfather only left us one eyepatch, so I let Kaeya have it.” He presses his lips together tightly to stifle a laugh.
He can’t believe he’s trying to go along with all of this. Something must have possessed him today, or maybe this is just the effect that a kid like Klee has on other people. Kaeya’s going to have a field day when he finds out.
“Oh! That makes sense.” Klee pats his head, imitating what she’s probably had done to her a thousand times over. “You’re a good big brother for giving him the eyepatch. Kaeya really likes it.”
If you had any idea what kind of big brother I really am–
“Thank you, Klee,” he says quietly, pushing down the sudden rush of guilt. Now is certainly not the time, not when Klee is in such high spirits.
“Do you want to come with me to bury the last bits of treasure?”
“Sure,” he says without thinking. It’s not like he has anything else to keep him busy today. Might as well help for a good cause. “But I’m not carrying you all the way there on my shoulders.”
“Aww,” she whines, but it quickly dissolves into laughter as he lets her down from his shoulders. “Come on then! We still need to make lots of bombs for the treasure. And you promised crepes, remember? Klee didn’t forget!”
He should probably be more concerned by her bomb-making plans, and a more sensible Diluc would’ve kept her far, far away from any crafting tables. But Klee tugs him along with so much more energy than he thought any one person was capable of, with such an infectious and bright smile, that he can’t help but smile back and let her take him wherever she pleases.
“Ta-da!” Klee sprints ahead of him once they arrive, giggling cheerfully all the way. “This is where we bury the treasure!”
The spot she’s brought them to is achingly familiar. He knows it like the back of his hand, because once upon a time, he had come here almost every day with Kaeya. The little pond tucked away behind Springvale, next to the waterfall. It’s almost exactly like it appears in his memories, the verdant green and glittering blue just as vibrant as they seemed in childhood. The whispering of woodland creatures around them, and the calm flow of water, quiet and mysterious, but never frightening. The mild fragrance of calla lilies, Kaeya’s favourite.
He can’t remember the last time he was here. It must have been almost a decade ago now, perhaps longer.
If he closes his eyes, he can still hear their childish giggles echoing around him, carefree and light and innocent.
Klee tugs him over to spot just by the water and hands him a shovel. Diluc doesn’t understand how said shovel was able to fit in her small backpack, but this is Alice’s daughter after all, so he knows better than to question it. It doesn’t take long to dig out a big enough hole for all of her ‘treasure’ with his help.
“Almost done! Now there’s just the birthday card.”
She pulls out a card that’s bigger than her head, opening it up to reveal dozens of messages scribbled inside in vivid varicoloured ink, many of them accompanied by little doodles, flourishing signatures, hearts and crosses all over the page. Not a single inch of space left unmarked.
Kaeya is so loved. It makes his heart warm.
“Do you want to write something too?”
He snaps out of his daze.
“There’s no room,” he says, dropping his hand on her head. “Besides, this is from all of the Knights, isn’t it? It wouldn’t be right for me to intrude–”
“But you used to be a knight, didn’t you? And you’re helping with the plan now. It’s not fair if you don’t get to say something too!”
“That’s… that’s all in the past. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Klee pouts. “If you’re not going to write in the card then you have to promise to say happy birthday to him in person!” She holds out her pinky again.
“Of course. I was already planning on it,” he says, chuckling as she holds onto his fingers tightly.
She seems satisfied by that, and goes back to fixing up the buried treasure, smoothing out the dirt with her little hands.
“Alright, now we have to pick some flowers to place on top to mark the treasure! Come on!”
“His favourite flowers are already here, though,” Diluc says, gesturing at the calla lilies growing along the water’s edge.
Klee stares up at him, eyebrows raised in a quizzical look. “What are you talking about? Kaeya’s favourite flower is lamp grass.”
That can’t be right.
Diluc knows Kaeya’s favourite flower, how could he forget?
Back when Kaeya had first arrived in Mondstadt but had been too sickly to go outside for very long, he would consume every book they had in the house instead, and was particularly attached to one book about flowers. He’d decided that calla lilies were his favourite because he thought ‘calla’ was pronounced more like ‘Kaeya’. But even when Diluc had pointed out the mistake, he’d held onto it anyway. It had been something of an inside joke between them for years.
“What makes you think that, Klee?”
Klee looks at him like he’s just asked a stupid question. “He always has lamp grass on his desk. He says it reminds him of the past and he always smiles when he looks at it. So that means it’s his favourite, right?”
But–
That’s Diluc’s favourite.
Oh.
He feels a strange ache in his chest, but before he has time to think about it, a high-pitched voice interrupts them.
“Klee, what are you doing hanging out with him?”
They both turn their heads at the same time to see who the newcomer is. There’s a little girl with cat ears and a tail standing in the middle of the path leading to Springvale, her hands on her hips, glaring up at Diluc with unparalleled intensity.
“Diona! We’re preparing for Kaeya’s birthday! You wanna help?”
Diluc narrows his eyes. This is Diona? He’d heard about the new bartender at the Cat’s Tail, the young prodigy that Margaret attributed her recent spike in profit to, but he certainly hadn’t been expecting a child. Maybe he needs to have a talk with her.
“Why would I want to help for that drunkard? All he’s gonna do is drink the whole day anyway!”
That’s just a child talking, Diluc has to remind himself as he feels tension bleed into his shoulders, his hands twitching as she spews insults about Kaeya. She doesn’t understand anything. Don’t take it personally.
“Diona,” Diluc says sternly, “that’s rude. You shouldn’t talk about people that way.”
She all but hisses at him. “Oh yeah? I bet you’re happy about him drinking so much, aren’t you? Since you make so much money from it!”
“That’s my brother you’re talking about.”
Diona freezes for a second before her anger returns even more intensely, her tail moving about wildly and ears pressed back flat.
“If he’s your brother shouldn’t you be trying harder to stop him? Why would you keep selling alcohol then? Do you even care about him?”
Each of her questions is like a precise and ruthless strike to his heart. All of them are thoughts that have crossed his mind, however briefly, but to have them thrown back at him by another person – by a child, a desperately lonely one by the looks of it – hits harder than any weapon could.
Of course he feels guilty, knowing that he enabled his brother’s addiction for so long, either indirectly by virtue of owning the damn winery, or directly by serving the alcohol himself.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he discarded the winery, if the industry were allowed to fall apart. Sure, Mondstadt would be left scrambling, and none of the people in his employment would be pleased, but at least Kaeya–
Why are you letting a child get to you? She has no idea how the world works.
…He knows that.
But if Kaeya’s problems could be solved by simply giving up the winery–
He would do it in a heartbeat.
“Kaeya’s my friend too,” Klee says sadly, clutching at the hem of her dress.
Diona’s angry expression falters as guilt takes over, and she turns away quickly, crossing her arms. “Hmph. Whatever! It’s not like I wanted to hang out with either of you anyway.”
She scampers off back towards Springvale before either of them can get another word in, leaving them alone again in a tense silence.
“Klee’s sorry,” she says eventually. “Diluc likes cats and Diona’s kinda like a cat so Klee thought you guys would be best friends. I didn’t think she would say all that mean stuff.”
“It’s not your fault, Klee. She was just upset. Don’t worry about it.” He ruffles her hair gently, hoping to quiet her sniffling.
“Diona’s always upset about people drinking. Klee doesn’t get it. Is it really that bad? Everyone seems to like it though.”
Diluc’s heart shatters. The two of them are far, far too young to even be thinking about this sort of thing. It certainly doesn’t help that drinking is such an integral part of Mondstadt’s culture, and alcoholism seems more infectious than a common cold around here.
An unbidden memory floats to the surface, of Kaeya dragging him down to the cellars of the mansion when they were barely teenagers, having stolen the keys from right under Adelinde’s nose. He doesn’t remember what happened after that.
How long, exactly, has Kaeya been like this, without Diluc ever noticing a thing, or thinking anything was wrong? Who had even put the idea in Kaeya’s head in the first place? How many chances had he missed to put a stop to this before it grew into something bigger?
How much pain could you have saved him?
“Klee, seriously,” he says, kneeling in front of her, grabbing her shoulders with perhaps a bit too much desperation, “don’t worry about it, okay? This is grown-up stuff. You and Diona are just children. You shouldn’t be thinking about any of this.”
She sniffles again, once, twice, before looking up with a tentative yet bright smile. A great relief, because Diluc wouldn’t have known what to do if she started full-on crying.
“There we go,” he says softly. “Come on, let’s get you home–”
“Klee still has one more thing to do,” she says, tugging insistently on Diluc’s sleeve.
She leads him to a tree and sits down in front of it, patting the space next to her. He raises one eyebrow but follows her lead, sitting next to her, stretching his legs out and leaning back against the tree. They sit like that in the quiet for a couple of moments before Klee’s arms wrap tightly around his middle and she buries her face in his coat, hugging him fiercely.
“Klee, what–”
“Klee can tell that you’re tired. I’m using my int- intu–”
“Intuition?”
“Intuition!” She giggles, sounding proud of herself. “Klee can tell that you’re tired, so Klee is going to sit here with you until you fall asleep. Klee always feels better after a nap.”
“I’m not that tired, Klee–”
“Don’t lie! Kaeya said lying is bad.”
Oh, Kaeya said that, did he?
“Who’s going to look after you then, if I fall asleep?”
“You said you weren’t supervising me.”
Clever girl. “If you insist,” he sighs, “I’ll sit here with you. But I’m not falling asleep. I’ll just close my eyes for a while.”
“Don’t worry. Klee will chase all the bad guys away with her bombs if anyone comes close!”
“How reassuring,” he says, letting one arm drape around her lazily, as he shuts his eyes.
He’s not going to sleep. He’s just resting his eyes for a bit.
The first thing he sees after he wakes up is his brother’s face above him.
His fist swings before he can think about it. It sends Kaeya reeling away from him, clutching the side of his face as he falls into the grass limply. His brain takes far too long to catch up to the situation, but when it does he gasps in fear.
“Kaeya!” He scrambles over to his brother’s side, turning him over onto his back. “Kaeya, are you– shit, I didn’t mean to–”
“Archons, Diluc,” Kaeya says, massaging his cheek, laughing weakly. “I know you have a good right hook, but I didn’t need the demonstration.”
“I’m sorry– are you okay? I didn’t hurt you too bad, did I?”
“I’m fine, I’m fine. I’ve been hit harder by Klee, I’m sure. Don’t worry about it.”
Kaeya summons frost to his fingertips and presses his hand against his face, hissing lightly at the contact. Diluc winces. He hopes it doesn’t leave a bruise.
“So what did I do to earn your anger this time?”
“Nothing! You didn’t– I just–”
“Let me guess. A nightmare?”
Diluc goes still, then slumps back against the tree.
“Are you going to talk to me about it?”
Diluc shakes his head, letting his eyes shut again.
“Are you going to talk to anyone about it?”
“It’s not a big deal. Just– a stupid dream, nothing more.” He opens his eyes in a panic, looking around frantically. “Where–”
“Klee’s fine. She’s off playing with Diona now.” Kaeya smirks. “I have to say, you two were quite the adorable sight when I found you. I keep saying I’m going to buy a Kamera one of these days, because there’s far too many priceless moments I should be capturing on film.”
Diluc groans as Kaeya chuckles and sits down next to him, their shoulders pressing together. “For what? Blackmail?”
“It’s okay, Diluc, really. Everyone knows you’re a big softie deep down.”
“And who is ‘everyone’, exactly?”
“All the people that matter.”
Diluc huffs, and Kaeya laughs again, the motion of it a comforting sensation against his side. He doesn’t say anything as Kaeya lifts up Diluc’s arm and tucks himself underneath it, drawing even closer, his head resting against Diluc’s chest.
“Someone’s clingy today.”
“Klee looked so comfortable. Now I see why.”
He can’t help the small smile that grows on his face as Kaeya lets out a contented sigh, and lets his head come to rest on top of Kaeya’s. The warmth he feels is from more than just his brother’s presence and the dappled sunlight shining down on them.
“Do you remember coming here when we were younger?” Diluc asks quietly, staring out over the picturesque landscape in front of them.
“I remember pushing you in the water whenever you tried to go to that island in the middle, yeah.”
“Of course that’s what you remember,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“I also remember trying to carry you home that one time when you fell from a tree. I didn’t make it very far before someone from Springvale had to stop and help me.”
Diluc cringes at the memory. He’d cried a lot that day. Kaeya had been panicking the whole time, because usually he was the one in need of assistance, not the other way round.
“Why does it feel like all your memories of this place involve me being in pain?”
“Maybe those are the only ones I like looking back on.”
“Very funny. Quit the Knights and become a comedian, why don’t you.”
“Don’t you already think the Knights are a joke anyway?”
That gets an actual laugh out of him, and he feels Kaeya smile against him. It’s a good feeling. Impossibly warm. It would be nice if they could exist like this forever, swathed in old memories and familiar scenery, echoes of their laughter ringing all the way from the distant past to the far future.
“Are we still on for dinner tomorrow?”
“You mean your birthday dinner? Yes, obviously, why wouldn’t we be.”
“Just making sure,” Kaeya says, leaning in closer. “You know, it’s been a while since we had a proper family dinner. I’m expecting nothing less than a grand affair from Dawn Winery.”
“I– it’s hardly anything that elaborate, it’s just–”
“Relax. It was a joke. I was teasing,” Kaeya says as he lightly kicks his leg. “If you’re there, it’s already a pretty grand affair. Archons know you don’t socialise enough. It’ll be all over the newspapers if word gets out. The one and only Master Diluc Ragnvindr, famous for hating the Knights of Favonius, was spotted having a civilised dinner with none other than the Cavalry Captain–”
“Maybe we’re not on for tomorrow after all.”
“How cruel. Are you trying to single-handedly ruin my birthday? I thought that was supposed to be my job.”
The comfortable warmth that had settled over them splinters. Kaeya had said the words nonchalantly enough, but it did little to mask the deeper meaning that they were both all too aware of. His chest seizes painfully.
“Woah. Okay. My bad. Not crossing that line again. Sorry, Luc.”
Diluc breathes, but it’s shaky. “It’s fine–”
“No, it’s clearly not. You don’t need to pretend. We’re not there yet, that’s okay.” Kaeya squeezes his arm lightly. “We’ll get there eventually.”
Eventually.
It seems like an impossible dream, the idea that one day they might be able to joke lightheartedly about the horrible things they’ve done to themselves and to each other. That one day it wouldn’t hurt to remember those awful memories, and they would instead look back on them together and laugh at how foolish they’d been.
“Eventually,” Diluc repeats, almost too soft to be heard. A solemn supplication for the future.
The steady flow of time will carry them there eventually. For now, Diluc is quite content to sit here in the sunlight with his brother and bask in happier memories instead, until they’re ready to face the darker ones together.